


With Gently Smiling Jaws

by EstelleDusk



Category: Human Trafficking (TV), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, references to forced prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstelleDusk/pseuds/EstelleDusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of going to find his son himself, Rumplestiltskin convinces Belle to go out into the world as a way of protecting her from Jones and Cora. Along the way, she runs into trouble by trusting someone that looks remarkably like the man she left in Storybrooke</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Gently Smiling Jaws

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Sergei from Human Trafficking is in here. Yes, he's a right bastard. However! The story is mostly Rumbelle, with the barest hint of Sergelle. Only it's one of those "I've lost you my love and I can never come back!" stories. And the sequel to this piece is my other story "Make A Choice" which IS a Sergelle with the barest hint of Rumbelle.
> 
> Both stories can be read separately.
> 
> Beta-read by KanLaughingAlongWithAWatermelon

“Belle...please, you have to find my son. Without me.” The words seem almost physically painful for him, and Belle is beginning to understand how much this means to him.

“What? No, I don’t even know how he looks. Rumple, I need to be here, with you, or out there with you.” She places a hand on his chest to emphasize her words, her want to stay with him. 

Her protests fall on deaf ears, and Rum shakes his head, reaching out and laying a hand on her arm.  “Belle, darling, listen to me... It’s dangerous for you to be here, with Jones and Cora around...I worry for you. And I don’t want to bring my boy back to this mess. So you go find him for me. Spend a week in New York, that’s all I know about where he is. You found the Yaoguai after a day of searching. I know you can find my boy. And you can get to know him and prepare him for Storybrooke--”

Belle interrupts him then, biting her lip and trying to reason with him. “But we don’t have any more of the potion, it took you ages to make that small bit. And the shawl won’t work for me, and...and...please! Rumple, don’t make me go without you.” Her eyes are begging that he understand. She had her adventure, all she wants now is to be safe and sound by his side.

He pulls her into a hug and murmurs against her ear. She can feel the tension in his shoulders, and she wraps her arms around him too. “I doused your mother’s necklace in the potion while you were in the shower. It will allow you to cross, and you must never take it off while you’re out there. I don’t know what would happen, perhaps you’d forget all at once, perhaps slowly, just don’t take it off. Keep it hidden beneath your blouse so any thieves won’t see it. Leave it on as you shower. Ma’ Belle, I need you to do this."

\--

New York...that’s where her lover sent her to find his estranged son. She was given a credit card connected to his bank account and any magical artifact that he could convince her to take as protection. According to Google, it was an 8-hour drive, give or take. Of course...the popular website couldn't locate Storybrooke and thought she was in the middle of a forest, so she just used the closest town on the map provided as her starting point. She even wrote down the instructions she was given.

Although, Rumplestiltskin would have preferred she just use the fake ID and passport he made for her to catch a plane there; he was a bit less enthusiastic about his original plan when he saw that airports make you take off almost everything but your shirt and pants before you were put through a scanner made to sound if it caught you wearing any metal and then everything taken off was put through another scanner to find out if you were carrying weapons in your luggage or coat.

Belle was beginning to really like this Google. It showed you maps and could explain almost anything to you. She resolved to learn more about it when she returned to Storybrooke, Baelfire in-tow.

By the time the former princess reached New York City, she was hungry and tired, exhausted really. So she drove around in the car her lover lent her until the traffic became so clogged up that she decided to ditch the car as soon as she found a place to park it and then continue on foot.

Relying on her small knowledge about the city thanks to Google, she soon found a parking garage and went inside. She drove carefully while looking for an empty spot to park, her lover had mentioned that the people of New York were an angry people, that looked for any tiny little thing to take another person to court with, and she wasn't sure how true he was being or if he was just trying to scare her into being careful, but she didn't want to take any chances.

Finding a spot, she pulled it carefully and then picked a few things to carry with her as she went around the sprawling city looking for Baelfire. Her purse, her ID and passport, a borrowed coat she’s surprised her lover didn't realize she stile from his closet, and the small shiv Rumplestiltskin pressed into her hands before sending her over the town-line in his car.

Hours later, in the dead of night, she returned to the car with only a full stomach to show for her hard work. She falls asleep in the car, using her coat as a pillow. In the morning, she treks out again with the same items as before. She had been reviewing who and what her ID claimed her to be when she bumped into someone that looked remarkably like the man she left back in Storybrooke, only he was dressed in a white suit and his brown hair made him look younger. Her bag and ID fell to the ground, as did the stranger’s sunglasses and newspaper.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going.” She leans down to pick up their things when the man does it for them, quicker than she would have thought.

He reads the ID and frowns at it for a reason that Belle can’t fathom. “I can see that...Mrs. Gold...Australian, right? Your accent?” He comments as he hands back her purse but keeps the ID in hand.

“I...uhh, yes, you’re right. And you would be?” Honestly, Belle had no clue where this Australia was, but she assumed they had an accent similar to her birthplace back home, in the marshlands past Avonlea.

“You know,” he ignores her question as he scratches at a corner of the ID in his hand, “it’s generally a bad idea to walk around in this country as an illegal alien.”

“I’m not an alien, sir. I’m from Maine, I’m just new in town.” She remembered a book in the Storybrooke library meant to help immigrants to the USA, figuring she counted as an immigrant, she read it. It had mentioned illegal aliens as people who lived in a country without being a citizen, and got there through means other than the legal process of using a passport to be granted entry.

Even as she spoke, she realized her words meant nothing as the mysterious man examined the ID with the look of someone that had done it a million times before. “Is that how they’re smuggling you all in now? I’ll have to remember that. You should get your money back, sweetheart. The guy that made this is a few years behind in current technology,” suddenly, he grins at her, “I think you should come with me, I can help you fix this.”

He hands over the ID as a sign of trust and she nervously takes it back. “You’re not going to...turn me in?”

“I have a habit of helping desperate young women such as yourself in their quests to come to this country. Just consider it my business, Mrs. Gold. Now, if we may? I know a place we can talk in private.”

He holds his hand out for her to take and she hesitates only a minute after murmuring something about bravery. Together they walk to a little cafe with very few patrons, just two burly men playing cards. Belle notices that the man she’s with gives a small nod to the men and the waitress quickly brings out a coffee for the man that brought her in. She supposes they simply know him well, but she can’t shake the strange feeling in her gut.

“Cozy place, isn't it?” He asks as he sips his coffee.

“It’s...a bit small, uhm...is there a different room we can talk in...I don’t want those men to overhear.” She glances around the small cafe and angles her seat so that she has the impression that the room is actually bigger by staring in the general direction of the large glass windows.

“Not a fan of tight spaces?”

“Not really...”

“Well, don’t worry, either about the size or those men, they’re with me. How about you just tell me your story and I’ll see how I can help a beauty such as you?” He lights up a cigarette then, and leans back in his chair as he raises his feet onto another chair close-by.

“Uhh, you’re very,” Belle giggles, always finding it funny when she can use David’s nickname in conversation, “charming, sir, but I still don’t know your name.”

“Forgive me, I’m Sergei Karpovich, now, your story?” He flags down the solo waitress and orders a slice of lemon cake and some coffee for Belle.

“Alright, Mr. Karpovich, you see, I’m in town to find my husband’s son since he can’t come here...”

\--

“Hello and welcome to Carlina’s Beauty Parlor, oh, Mr. Karpovich, we weren't expecting you until next week.” The redheaded desk attendant began to say before realizing who was there. The Russian man casually eyes the decor as he pulls a cigarette out and lights it.

“You should always be expecting me.” He gives the cigarette a few puffs before continuing. “A new girl will be arriving soon, she’s more useful at the desk then on her back, so one of you lovely ladies will be demoted, line up.”

A nervous nod comes from the redhead and the two other girls on this floor line up. Sergei takes a long drag of his smoke while eyeing the youngest of the 3 girls. She’s a brunette, with wide blue eyes. As he stares at her, his free hand points to the secret stairwell leading to the whore rooms.

Her eyes dart between the stairs and him, slowly realizing what he meant. The other girls do nothing but look down at the ground. So the brunette begins her walk of shame, still feeling Sergei’s eyes on her when he suddenly calls out to her when she’s almost to the backroom door. She turns out, eyes full of hope that’s quickly smashed.

“Don’t forget to change out of that uniform, it should fit the new girl well enough. And I don’t want it covered in cum when she gets it.”

A half hour later, Sergei is waiting in the backroom, doing the accounts when a new brunette walks into the building and purposefully strides to the backroom alongside one of Sergei’s men. The guard is dismissed quickly and without a word goes downstairs to relieve one of the other guards of his shift. The girl stands there nervously.

Her brown hair is wavier, much wavier than the one that was demoted. And it seems to have hints of red. Her eyes aren't simply blue but more like crystals or a lake with how much they used to sparkle before Sergei got a hold of her. Now her blue eyes are as deep and sorrowful as the ocean. She wears a blue lace mini-dress, 2 inch matching heels, and her hair is loose around her shoulders.

“You’re going to have to get rid of that pride if you intend to keep doing this for me and not repay your debt another way.” He finally says as he finishes up the accounts. He halfheartedly points to a uniform on a hanger by the door she walked in. “Change.”

She hesitates.

“Belle, sweetheart, change, before you force my hand.” He adds when he still doesn't hear clothes hitting the floor.

His words have the opposite effect he desired. Instead of growing fearful, she’s suddenly brave.

“Why shouldn't I just walk out that door right now? You have your men do the dirty work, you wouldn't be able to stop me.” Her eyes grow fierce and she steps lightly towards him.

Without missing a beat, he reaches into his pocket for his phone and quickly pulls up a few photos that make her gasp. “Because I found the man you were searching for. I know exactly where he is. And I can make sure he doesn't live another minute. You take one step outside that door without me by your side, and I’ll personally see to it that he’ll never know his stepmother.”

\--

“Hello and welcome to Carlina’s Beauty Parlor. What are you in for today?” She grins as wide as she can, believing that if she smiles enough, she’ll be happy again. She’s been with Sergei for 2 weeks now.

She watches the man that entered, his hands are deep in his pockets and he’s sweating profusely. She continues the charade the other girls working this level had drilled into her. “Sir? Do you have an appointment?”

The man nods a few times and licks his lips a few times before he finally speaks. “I...I’m here to see Bridget.”

Belle looks at the two other girls in the room when he says the name. They both look up from their respective cleaning duties to give her a quick nod. Three girls are kept in the front room of this business. Trained to look out for any signs that the men or women entering were actually here to spend money and not to rat the company out for being a brothel. Of course, the two besides Belle were also trained as stylists just in case an unsuspecting customer simply came in to get their hair or nails done. Belle so far was only trained to listen for code-words.

Belle gives the man one of her most charming smiles. “Of course, sir, just follow my co-worker Anna and she’ll take you to...Bridget.” She gestures to her left and towards the red-headed woman sweeping up hairs from around one of the styling chairs. As the man walks away, a spring in his step, Belle takes the moment to let a look of disgust cross her face.

She then shakes her head with a sigh and returns to staring out the window to her right. People-watching had always been a hobby of hers, even back in the Enchanted Forest. She’s in the middle of a daydream about the man she left in Storybrooke when she swears she seems him walking down the opposite side of the street, the son she was sent out to find in-tow. Not believing her eyes, her voice is almost mute, “Rumple...”

She slowly gets out of her slouched position, her hands firmly grasping her desk. Then she spies the Savior of Storybrooke and her son just ahead of her lover and his own son. This time, when she speaks, it’s louder, almost a cry, as she scrambles to get around the desk and out of the building. “Rumple!”

Sergei can’t harm them, not when she’s barely 25 feet away. That’s a nice quick jog, nothing can stop her from going home at last. Or at least...that’s what she thought until her hair was roughly pulled from behind when she was centimeters from the door to her freedom. Her eyes go wide as she glances behind her. She forgot about the blonde that didn't follow Anna down the stairs. Not bothering to try to explain herself to her captor, she simply fights against the blonde --was her name Hilary or Katerina?-- hoping that she’ll be able to overpower the woman and be home free.

That’s when Anna comes back and helps the blonde wrestle Belle to the backroom. Before she’s taken to the back and the door slammed in her face, she sees her lover holding the door for a restaurant open for his little group. “NO! Rumple!”

\--

They had stuck her in their tiniest room and locked the door, as per Sergei’s orders when they called him to inform him of her escape attempt. If only Belle had known before that casually mentioning her fear of small enclosed spaces would be used against her. She should have known the instant she met Sergei that he was trouble, but no, her mind was filled with the hope of finding Rumple’s son and bringing him home.

She huddles closer into the corner she’s chosen as her vantage point in the room that seems to get increasingly smaller the longer she’s there. Her fingers play with the pearl-drop pendant around her neck on a golden chain. At the same time, her mind toys with the choice she’s been considering making since figuring out that her lover wouldn't be able to save her from this.

The necklace was her mother’s once. She remembers the day her father presented it to her when she was five. Old enough to understand why her mother wasn't around. Since then, it hardly ever left her neck. Except when she had been in the Storybrooke Asylum where she had nothing but the clothes on her back. Then one of the few times she does take it off, Rumplestiltskin enchants it so that she can safely cross the town-line without losing herself.

He assured her that as long as she wore it, she’d remember him, she’d remember who she loved. But he warned her against taking it off for even a minute. He wasn't sure what would happen. He knew that if he had been across the line and removed his enchanted shawl, he would lose himself, starting with his magic. But he didn't know how long it would take, or even if the process could be stopped or reversed upon the enchanted item returning to its place.

It would be terrible...Belle remembered what it was like to not know anything for 28 years. But she couldn't help her thoughts. She wondered what would happen to her now. Sergei wouldn't trust her anymore, that was certain. She’d probably be moved downstairs with the girls forced to pay him back by giving their bodies to men. She wondered which would be easier, being used like that and knowing there was someone at home waiting for you to walk through the door again. Or being used like that and being a blank slate.

Her grip tightens on the necklace and she takes deep breaths. Do the brave thing, and bravery would follow...but what was the brave thing in this situation?

\--

“That little...I’m going to strangle her.” Sergei mutters under his breath as he walks deeper into the complex beneath the beauty parlor his Queens brothel pretends to be. The whores and various guards direct him to the room they threw Belle in, via silent fingers pointed in the appropriate direction. When the famous modelling agent finally arrives at the room, the guard standing there is hesitant, but quickly strikes up the nerve to say what he considered something very important about the girl he was guarding.

“Sergei, there’s something you need to know.”

“What?” He spat in response, wanting to get this over with as quick as possible.

“The girl...she...when we put her in there, she acted just like you said she would. Crying or screaming with bouts of silence. But after an hour, she was completely quiet.”

“Did she kill herself?” Sergei finds it hard to believe Belle would have done that. She seemed too tough to take the easy way out. Then again...she probably thought all was lost when her family had walked right past her and didn't hear her yells for them, according to Katerina anyway.

“No, no, we checked and she was perfectly fine. She was just staring at the room, walking around. When she noticed me, she asked when she was given new clothes and a new room. Then she asked why I wasn't wearing the usual uniform and said I should hurry and change into the white before my boss arrived to see her as usual.” The guard pleads with his eyes for his boss to understand what he’s trying to get across.

Sergei looks his guard up and down. He was wearing the uniform, standard dark shirts and jeans. He wonders what could have gotten into her head that she would say things like that. It’s almost like she lost...

Oh.

Sergei frowns deeply as he dismisses the guard. A half a minute later of staring at the door and deciding to just act normally until he can be certain that something is wrong, he fixes his tie and walks in without knocking.

The brunette in question practically jumps up from her slouched position on the floor when he enters. He can see she’s nervous, but not afraid. He closes the door behind him and walks around the room. She keeps her hands clasped in front of her and tilts her head, following him with her eyes and not her feet. He critically eyes her up and down for any major difference. He sees no cuts on her arms or face. Her hair and clothing are more disheveled than he’s used to seeing. She’s thrown her heels off somewhere. And her neck seems decidedly bare.

As he turns away from her to look at the room instead, he speaks. “Belle, do you know why you’re here and not upstairs working?” Ah, there are the heels he had her wear, broken and in a lonely corner.

“Who’s Belle?” She asks and he glances at her to see her eyes scrunched up like they always seem to be when she’s confused.

“You are.”

“I...I have a job?” She stares at him, nothing is the same as it was but hours ago for her.

“You’re a secretary of sorts for the beauty parlor I own...where’s your necklace?”

“You mean the gold one? It’s not mine, I don’t remember ever having jewelry that pretty. It’s over there, under the heels...uhm...I’m sorry...I don’t remember much. The last thing I remember before being in this room was being in my room at the asy....hospital.” She averts her eyes as she remembers, a second too late, that normal people don’t like anyone from an asylum.

Sergei can’t help the short chuckle. So petite Belle used to be in an asylum? That’s interesting. “I already knew that, Belle.”

“Oh...wait...I forgot, the last thing I remembered...it wasn't the asylum. It was...you? A man, he had let me out, he told me to find Mr. Gold, that he’d protect me. And I found him...you...we were at a pawnshop. Then you took me to the woods...and that’s it. Next thing I know, I’m here. ...Mr. Gold, why can’t I remember what happened after?”

So her husband had his face? Well that would make things easier, Sergei thinks. He walks over to the heels and moves them aside to reveal the necklace. He picks it up and pockets it. If she ever remembered, perhaps it could be used as a bargaining chip“I don’t know, Belle. I do know that while I was working with my models and you were upstairs at the parlor, you apparently had a nervous breakdown. So the other girls put you in here to calm down. Then they called me and I came as soon as I could. You know New York traffic, it’s a killer.”

“Actually...I don’t...I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember my name...wait, you had a cane and a limp, and your hair was more grey. You’re not Mr. Gold.” She says uncertainly.

“Ah, but I am. We walked through the forest to a car I had parked on the outskirts of town for emergencies. We skipped town, it was important that I protect you after all. I spent most of my money on surgery to fix my leg and dye my hair. Now, Belle, I think it’s important that I fill you in on everything that’s happened since we moved. Just because you can’t remember your duties, doesn't mean I’ll let you off from them.” Sergei smiles when she slowly nods her head and gently smiles at him.

“Alright, Mr. Gold...I won’t let you down.”

“Actually, it’s Sergei now, darling. Sergei Karpovich.”


End file.
